Mizi was wearing lipgloss today. Pink, sticky, lipgloss. Her lips smacked together as she spoke, and quite honestly if you asked Sua she wouldn’t be able to tell you what was being said. Which is unheard of because she always listens to Mizi when she spoke. But today, today Sua could only focus on her mouth. On the way it curved, the way her lips seemed a little plumper than usual, the way they looked softer— so unlike how they would usually be. Chapped and bitten to hell. But now they were smooth, no broken skin or sight of blood to be found. Sua wanted….
“Right Sua?”
She blinks. “I’m sorry?”
Mizi pouts and Sua feels her heart being condensed. She jerks when she feels Mizi’s hand land on her forehead, hoping her skin isn’t reflecting how unnerved she currently feels. Mizi tilts her head, her stupidly pretty eyes glimmering, “You are a little warm? Are you not feeling well?” She leans in closer, “Do you need me to carry you home?”
Sua burns at the idea of Mizi carrying her anywhere. She wants to lean back, just to get a little space, just to be away from those lips before she did something she couldn’t take back, but Mizi has her free hand on her back holding her in place. Sua swallows. Opening her mouth to speak, but finds her throat has gone dry. Mizi’s lips really did look soft. It must show on her face because soon Mizi is moving back with a soft, “Sorry,” pulling both her hands away. Sua feels the absence immediately.
“Are you really okay?” And oh, Sua didn’t want to worry her. Didn’t know how to tell her that yes, she was fine and no, she wasn’t sick— well, lovesick— just a fool. A fool helpless and in love with her best friend yet too cowardly to tell her. She didn’t know how to tell her that Mizi’s lipgloss was driving her crazy and if she stays here any longer she might just kiss her.
The thought sends another wave of heat through her. Kissing Mizi? Was Sua crazy? Mizi wouldn’t…would she? She risks another look at her friend, who was still staring at her with a look of genuine concern. No, Mizi wouldn’t. At least not Sua.
“I’m okay.” She says, swallowing against the burn in her throat. Mizi doesn’t look quite convinced, but she knows Sua enough to let it go. And soon she’s back into another story, this time Sua forces herself to pay attention. Mizi couldn’t like her. She was only Sua.